Lion's Den
by Keon Kamori
Summary: The course of a teenage boy's life is altered forever when he discovers his bloodline. Lion's Den is a tale of adventure and chaos.


**Chapter 1**

A Rueful End

It was cold. The rain which had been plaguing the small township was slowly breaking and a single ray of light fell down from the heavens onto the dirt road. The only tame path in or out. A caravan of carriages lead by two armored men on horseback, each with a sword on their hip and crossbows on their backs became visible. The sound of hooves quickly changed from the deep and hollow "pitter patter", into a high sharp "clip clop", as they moved onto the stone paved road of the township.

A cup rose from the table to the mouth of a cloaked man sitting outside the tavern. He was wearing rather ragged clothes and smelled quite bad; which was apparent to most, from the way he was treated by the waitress when he requested a second cup of tea. His skin was a bit darker than most, and his hair shaggy from lack of showering, however the rain would take care of that soon enough. His eyes rose to meet them and his head would turn as the first carriage passed by the tavern.

The two guards were quite different in appearance, one young and one old. The older of the two had a salt and pepper beard and black short cut hair. He also had a few battle scars on his face and was clearly blind in his left eye. One would think him unfit for duty but his chest bore too many medals for him to lack skill. The other was a young blond haired, green-eyed prodigy; not having the knowledge of the older one, but was more than likely just as skilled, making up in speed what lacked in power. As they passed the man in the hood they placed a few pound in his outstretched right hand.

The first to do so was the younger soldier. The second was their precious cargo, a girl, aged between nine and ten years. A small babe. The hooded man grimaced. The old man turned to the cloaked man and smacked his hand, causing the money he was given fly out of his hand and crash against the wooden door of the tavern. "Men like you, make men like me sick. If you want money, work for it." The old guard said in a condescending tone. "There is a war going on and you are clearly able-bodied. Have some courtesy and join in the war."

"I am sorry sir." said the assaulted man. "However your war efforts are wasted. And why support a failing caused."

"What did you say, you little shit?"

"I will not join failures."

The guard spat at the hooded man. However he expected it. With a quick push of his arms, he had slid out of his chair. His left hand lifted to the neck of the elder of the two. With the flick of his wrist a silver streak seemed to emanate forth from his hand. As he touched the old man's neck the silver was replaced by red. Blood seeped out the wounded neck turning his graying beard crimson. For a short moment the two locked eyes and time seemed to stop. The cloaked man pulled the blade from the soldiers neck and as life left his eyes, he fell to the ground.

"You bastard!" said the blond through clenched teeth. The girl shrieked drawing the attention of everyone in the tavern. The green eyed soldier's blade was drawn and charged forward with a thrust. The hooded man rolled under the thrusting strike and grabbed the felled man's rapier from his hilt. A look of dismay appeared on the face of the swordsman at the disbelief of the speed this peasant possessed. However, would not give in that easily. Once again the soldier's blade swung, diagonally this time, to cut the peasant in two from shoulder to hip. Yet as the man rolled to his feet he swung the blade back around to catch the flat of the young man's second strike. The hooded man's parry would prove all too effective. Instead the soldier was left off balance. Unprepared for the piercing blow, the weapon stabbed clean into the blond soldier's throat. The blade was pulled out of his throat and the sword fell from hand and hands grabbed at the bleeding neck. Green eyes focused on the hooded man, hand and chest now covered in blood. Body grew limp and after stumbling a bit landed face down. Mustering up the energy to turn to the girl, only to see her sobbing.

The cloaked man walked to the sobbing girl slowly. It was then that a man from inside the carriage came out with a crossbow. "Now you let her go." the man said with a quivering voice. "You let her go or I'll put a hole in you. Right through your heart." The man took another step toward the girl who was still cowering next to the door. Click. Whiz. The bolt launched off the crossbow, and flew over the stairs on a direct course to the cloaked man's chest. However a simple shift in weight from his right foot to his left and a slight lean back sent the bolt through the door and into the adjacent wall, in the tavern. The man shifted his attention from the girl to the man and began walking to him. the untrained shooter trying his hardest to reload.

"Don't bother," said the cloaked murderer. "you're too slow. Probably took you the length of the fight to load that thing. Else you'd have shot me after I killed the first bastard." A low pitch whiring sound followed by another click signaled how wrong he was in his words. The cross bow was set and a bolt was put in place on the track. The cloaked man was only a few yards from the armed man when the crossbow was pointed at him, fully loaded.

"Yeah. That's right. You'd better stop. Else you'll have one right in the gullet." The man's boast was met by the ragged man raising his arms in submission. "Come on Lady Christine it's safe now." The young girl started walking slowly toward the carriage. quiet steps followed by creaking signaled the man in rags that a window of opportunity was closing. The submissive man took a step forward, arms still raised slighting above his head. "Now don't make me shoot you." the small girl now took steps back out of returning fear.

"If you were honestly planning on shooting me, why haven't you done it yet?" The words pierced the armed man harsher than any bolt. His demeanor dropped and the crossbow lowered slightly. Another step forward by the raggedly dressed man. The crossbow was once again aimed at the head of its target. "You won't do it."

"I'll shoot you. I swear."

"You won't" two more steps.

"Don't make me."

"Do it!" only a mere few feet separated the two.

"Agh!" the man closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. A click followed by a whizzing sound erupted from the crossbow. All was silent save the low groan that escaped the mouth of the ragged man. Seconds seemed like hours for all who bore witness. The recipient of the bolt fell to his knees and placed a hand on the ground to balance himself. The other hand rose to the bolt which dug a bit into left shoulder. After removal the man stood.

"Looks like you have a pair after all." the sound of metal scraping metal emanated from his wrist as the once hidden blade was revealed. "Don't bother reloading. Just great death like a man." The blade-wielder launched himself into the air bladed arm high in the air before coming down on the neck of the crossbow toting man. They both collapsed to the ground and only the ragged man stood again. Covered in blood he took the crossbow from his recent kill and placed his remaining bolts in his belt. He then turned his gaze upon the young girl again who, by now, was being rushed into the tavern by the waitress who served him not too long ago.

A sigh escaped his lips as he began to regret the mess he's caused. Limping up the stairs he pushed the door open and saw the girl being led upstairs. A man came from behind the counter and was immediately became the recipient of a bolt to the throat from the crossbow. "My name is of no importance to anyone under the sound of my voice. Why I am here is of no concern to you as well. However If you interfere with my goal I will not hesitate to end your miserable existence. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies and gentlemen." With that he grimaced and walked up the stairs after the girl.

The only thing that people could hear were the screams and struggles of the waitress and young girl. However not a soul moved to stop him. A minute or two later he emerged from the top of the stairs with the young girl over his non-injured shoulder. Long, wavy auburn hair draped his back swinging from side to side as he carried her away. The entire tavern turn to stare at him. Yet they were all turned away with a subtle glare from Christine's captor. He opened the door one last time and placed her unconscious body on the front of a horse as he rode back the way they had come in.


End file.
